The Choice of the Desert Bandit
by Prince of all Saiyans
Summary: This is the story of YAMCHA before he became the Desert Bandit. This story explores his past and begins to explain why he chose his life of solitude in the Diablo Desert. Please R&R- Thanks


Okay here it is. I do not own any character, video, quotes, etc., from DBZ. This is a fanfic not to confuse anybody into thinking that it's any kind of real DBZ material. I don't own any trademark, rights, whatever of DBZ and am working independent from their company, blah blah blah. Hope you enjoy the story, please read and review. If I get ten or more reviews asking me to, I will continue the story. Review it whether it's bad or good. Doing so will help me bring you better stories in the future.  
  
  
  
THE CHOICE OF THE DESERT BANDIT  
  
Crash! The young twelve year old's fist crashed into another board, shattering it into splinters. With every swing of his fist, his long black hair would sway behind his head. He was truly becoming a great martial artist, his skills improving every day. His eyes focused on the next board. Thwak! Another board reduced to dust. The young boy was Yamcha and he had been training under his Uncle Miamoto since he was five years old. With every fist he threw, he thought of how his parents had been brutally murdered. He was only five years old when he discovered their bodies. Yamcha tried to shake the thoughts from his head, but they wouldn't leave. He stood in the middle of his lush backyard, the ripe green grass stopped by a wall of tall trees several yards away. He walked over to the small brick wall his uncle had put up months before. It stood there in the middle of the grass, mocking him. Its looks were deceiving, only as tall as himself and only three feet wide, but the material of the brick was different, super strong like steel. Yamcha focused, hitting the wall with all of his might.  
"Ow!" Yamcha yelled as a line of blood ran down his hand.  
Yamcha stared down at his bleeding knuckles, and then over at the wall which remained unscathed.   
"I'll never be able to knock that stupid wall down." Yamcha bitterly said as he stared at the wall.  
"Hi Yamcha!"  
Yamcha leapt high into the air, startled by the sudden greeting from whoever was behind him. He turned around to see his cousin Shana standing innocently with a sweet smile on her face.  
"My dad says to come in for lunch. By the way, this is my friend Jessica."  
Yamcha now noticed the young girl standing next to his cousin. She was pretty, very pretty, and his knees instantly turned into mush.  
"What's wrong with you?" Shana laughed as she looked curiously at Yamcha.  
"Ummm, all this training. I'm really tired, I got to go."  
Yamcha turned and raced to the house.  
"Your cousin's cute, but he's weird." Jessica giggled.  
"He's an odd one, that's for sure. Spends his whole time training."  
Yamcha sat down at the table and started chowing down on a couple of turkey sandwiches. His uncle walked over to him. He was tall with curly black hair that was now turning gray and a long mustache that hung down past his chin.   
"Today I will show you the attack. I've been watching your progress and I think you're about ready now."  
Yamcha put his last, half-eaten sandwich down and stared up at his uncle.  
"You mean you're finally going to teach me the 'Wolf's Fang Fist'?" Yamcha looked hopefully up at him.  
"Yes Yamcha, I believe you are ready."  
"All right! It's about time. I've been waiting forever for this."  
Miamoto smiled and turned to leave.  
"We leave in one hour. Make sure you bring plenty of water."  
"Why's that uncle?"  
"We're going to train in the Diablo Desert."  
"The Diablo Desert!"  
  
***  
  
Miamoto led Yamcha through the never-ending sands of the Diablo Desert. The hot sun beat down on them and beads of sweat started to drip down Yamcha's face. He walked far behind his uncle, his feet dragging in the sand as they went deeper into the desert.  
"Okay, we can stop now." Miamoto said.  
Yamcha dropped to his knees, panting from exaughstion. A hot, sweltering breeze spread across the desert floor, hitting them in their faces.  
"It's so hot out here." Yamcha complained.  
"Yes, but you'll have plenty of room to train and there will be little distraction out here."  
Yamcha stared up at his gray-haired uncle, rady to do anything it took to learn the infamous attack. His uncle looked so much like the pictures he had seen of his dad. The only way Yamcha could remember how his parents looked was through pictures. He had only one mental image of his parents, and he tried to block it out as much as possible.  
"In order to successfully use this move, you must feel the energy of the wolf. Feel its power, its strength. Only then will you be able to master this technique. That is why we will wait until night, when the desert wolves come out. You will study their ways and become part of their pack. I brought you here this early so you can start to get use to the heat that the sun will bring you. Now, until the wolves come we will meditate."  
"But uncle, we can't stay out here forever. We'll need to go back for food and water."  
"You will live out here, until you learn the way of the wolf. I will come once a week and bring you three days supply of food and water, the rest of the week will be up to you."  
"You can't do that!" Yamcha complained.  
"Hush, it's time to meditate."  
Yamcha and his uncle sat silently in the burning heat of the sun. His uncle's mind was trapped in meditation while Yamcha struggled to concentrate as salty sweat dripped down his face and body. Eventually night came, the temperature slowly dropping until the coolness settled in. It might have been cold to others, but after baking in the hot sun all day, Yamcha welcomed the sudden coldness of the desert night. He opened his eyes and glanced over at his uncle who remained silent and unmoving. Then a slow steady movement caught the corner of Yamcha's eyes and he slowly turned his head to the movement. Yamcha'' eyes widened with fright as he saw what was approaching them. A large pack of fierce wolves were trotting toward them, leaving a pluthera of footprints in the sand behind them.   
"Uncle," Yamcha said hoarsely. "Uncle." This time the call was louder.  
"Do not fear the wolves. If you fear them then you will never be part of them. Earn their respect." His uncle remained with his eyes closed.  
Yamcha stared wildly at the approaching wolves. The leader of the pack, or the alpha, was a large gray wolf with bright yellow eyes, and it walked toward Yamcha and his uncle with unmatched boldness. Quicly it started to gallop toward them, then it broke out in a run. It sprinted toward them and right before it reached them it stopped. It walked over to Miamoto.  
"Uncle, quick! Watch out!" Yamcha yelled as the wolf put his face right next to his uncle's.  
"Hush boy, do not worry." His uncle replied as the wolf began licking him all over his face.  
Yamcha stared in amazement and the wolves around him crowded closer, watching their leader show affection to the man.  
"You see Yamcha, I've already become one with the wolf. We share a bond that cannot be broken. And you can also share that bond. This wolf here will show you the way."  
"B-but how?"  
"Tonight he will lead you on a journey. Follow him and learn."  
"Where will you be?"  
"I'm going to go home and watch a movie. There's no sense in both of us being out here."  
"What? You're kidding right?"   
"Nope, I'll leave my supplies here. Come get them when the wolves are done with you tonight."  
"But." Yamcha didn't know what to say.  
"Look Yamcha, I'm very confident in you. You are already stronger than I am. I have no doubt that you'll be okay here."  
"I'm not sronger than you!"  
"You'd be surprised at how strong you are. Now it is time."  
Yamcha looked nervously at the alpha who was now staring straight at him with his lemon colored eyes. It cautiously approached the frightened boy. Yamcha backed up but his uncle gave him a stern look. Slowly the wolf crept up to him and licked his hand. Yamcha smiled nervously and then his smile became more genuine. The wolf jumped on his chest, knocking him down, and he started licking Yamcha's face. Yamcha laughed as only a twelve year old could, and he got to his feet.  
"Looks like he likes you. Makes me a bit jealous," Miamoto frowned a playful frown, "It took me two weeks to befriend that wolf."  
Yamcha looked over at his uncle with a goofy grin and his uncle smiled.  
"Then again, you're a lot more likable than I was at your age."  
The alpha walked back to his pack on his four powerful legs. He was undoubtedly the biggest wolf there, and all the other wolves seemed to respect him greatly. He waited at the front of the pack, staring eagerly for the boy to follow.  
"Go Yamcha, follow him."  
Yamcha walked over to the awaiting wolves and they began to lead him on his long journey through the desert.  
  
***  
  
"Wolf's fang fist!" Yamcha yelled as he sprang toward the alpha in the wolves cooled cave lair.   
Whack! The wolf was thrown to the ground and Yamcha started laughing. The alpha growled and leapt on Yamcha, knocking him down. Yamcha laughed again as he ran his hand gently on the wolf's head. He sprang up to his feet.  
"Well someone's a soar loser." Yamcha smiled and walked over to the cave entrance.  
He looked across the desert to the setting sun. His uncle had never been this late before to bring his supplies. Yamcha didn't really need those supplies, he had learned the desert way and was easily capable of surviving without them, still he scanned the land of sand nervously. For two months in a row his uncle had come, once a week to bring him his three days of rations, and every time he had come it had been early in the morning. Now it was almost night and there was still no sign. Infact, Yamcha's uncle might finally let him come home today, Yamcha had been improving greatly every week. Yamcha waited anxiously as the sun set and the stars began to appear in the night sky. The wolves remained restless as well, and they trotted back and forth throughout the cave. A few wolves at a time would leave to make their hunting rounds, leaving plenty of waiting wolves in the cave. Yamcha had never seen them do this before, and he could sense their uneasiness. The time passed slowly as Yamcha became even more impatient. He decided to make the trip to his uncle's house and see why he had not come. Yamcha turned to the wolves, their eyes glowing in the dark cave.  
"I know I'm not supposed to leave yet, but I'm just going to check on my uncle. I'll be back."  
Yamcha leapt out of the cave and began his long race across the endless grains of sand. The bright stars lit his way through the desert, his feet moving at new speed. A sudden dread filled his mind, an eerie feeling seeped into his body. Something had happened, he could feel it, he could sense it. Just as the wolf could sense danger and disaster, now Yamcha could too. Endless minutes trickled by as he got closer and closer to the end of the desert. Finally he reached the end of the yellow sand and he sped toward his house, his heart pounding not only from his long run but from his fear as well. As he got closer he could sense the danger even stronger. Then as he looked forward he saw someone kneeling by a creek. Its running waters could not block out the sound of the sobbing that came from this person, this child. Yamcha stopped running and approached the person he now recognized. It was his cousin Shana, and she wept bitterly, her tears dropping into the icy creek. She heard Yamcha approaching and looked up at him with her tear filled eyes.  
"No, what happened here?" Yamcha asked with a worried tone he could not shake.  
"My father," Shana cried, "He's dead."  
"No! You're lying. No, I won't believe it!" Yamcha yelled as salty tears remained trapped in his throbbing eyes.  
"It's true. The Nobai Gang came to our house demanding that he teach them the coveted 'Wolf's fang fist', but my dad knew they would just use it for evil so he told them no. They were angry and they grabbed me, threatening to kill me. He-he attacked them and freed me, but there were seven of them, each about as strong as my dad. He got me free and told me to run, but I was frozen in terror. I saw them kill him and then finally I got my composure to run, and they just stood there laughing!"  
"How could they? How could people do this? What monsters!"  
Yamcha clenched his fists tightly. He pushed his feet into the dirt and closed his eyes. Finally he opened his eyes and turned to leave.  
"Where are you going?" Shana asked as she looked at him with watery eyes.  
"To avenge my uncle!" Yamcha responded.  
"What? Are you crazy? You can't beat the Nobai Gang. My father couldn't beat them, the cops can't beat them, and everyone's scared of them. You're just a kid like me, what could you do? I'm not losing my cousin too." Shana said as she reached for Yamcha.  
Yamcha looked sadly back at her. She had gone through as much as he did in her life.  
"Listen, there's two things that will help me beat those guys. One is the months I spent out in the desert training. And number two is... them." Yamcha pointed behind Shana and she turned around to see the angry pack of fierce wolves that had followed Yamcha there.  
"Oh my..."  
"You see, not only will the wolves help me physically, but there mere presence will double my power."  
Shana stared in amazement at the approaching wolves. The alpha leading the pack, his bright yellow eyes cast forward like headlights, his boldness pushing the pack on. The wolves walked steadily toward the two, waiting for Yamcha to take the lead.  
"The Nobai Gang are fearless nomads. I'm sure they'll be camping nearby. The wolves and I will find them."  
Yamcha walked away from Shana, her eyes filling with fresh tears. He looked back at her in sympathy, his eyes teary too.   
"Don't you dare die. If you get into any trouble just run Yamcha." Shana sobbed as she ran up and gave her cousin a hug.  
Yamcha was silent as he hugged his cousin, his mind clouded with pain and anger. Yamcha broke free of the embrace and started to walk away.  
"Go to grandpa's house. It's not safe for you to be anywhere around here." He said over his shoulder.  
Shana nodded and they went their separate ways.  
  
***  
  
Yamcha came to his uncle's house with a saddened face. The front door was demolished, the windows were broken. An angry mist traveled through Yamcha's brain, enraging him. A fury took over his body as he slowly made his way over broken furniture and into the house. In front of him lay more destroyed furniture, personal belongings that were broken, pieces of glass, heaps of his uncle's books, and in the far corner of the dining room lay something which Yamcha dreaded looking at. He quickly turned away, sickened by the sight. He looked over the rubbish and over at the doorway where two glaring eyes were staring at him. The object moved closer and Yamcha took his fighting stance. It moved closer and closer before Yamcha recognized it in the dim light. The alpha had come and he slowly made his way past Yamcha, to his uncle's dead body. Yamcha did not turn around, he stayed facing the door as the alpha paid his last respects. A few gentle licks to the face was his way to say goodbye and then a chorus of howls from the wolves outside finished it off. The alpha walked next to Yamcha, and sat patiently, staring up at the now sobbing child.  
"How could people do this? Why are they so evil?" Yamcha questioned with fire in his voice.  
He walked out of the house and surveyed the ground outside, trying to keep his head clear and his thoughts organized. He carefully scanned the dirt and grass and sniffed the air just as the wolves did. Then he noticed the tracks of some kind of vehicle, fresh in the dirt. He glanced up to see the wolves had found the path as well and were trotting away. Yamcha quickly followed.  
  
***  
  
For half an hour he had traveled with the wolves, and now he came upon the vehicle they were tracking. A large ugly green van with the yellow spray painted letters 'NG' on it. Yamcha made his way to the other side of the van and he came upon a camp of seven drunken men, asleep in various spots on the wet, dewy grass. These bunch of drunks were the 'fearless' men that made up the Nobai Gang, these were the people that had killed his uncle. And over what? A martial arts technique? Yamcha stared angrily at the group of men. So many that were close to him had thair lives ruined by these type of people, his mom, his dad, and now his uncle. Yamcha couldn't take it anymore, his anger could not be controlled. He bravely walked over to the first Nobai he saw and yelled out at the top of his lungs.  
"Get up you cowards! Get up and fight!"  
The yelling Yamcha soon received a response as the Nobai groggily got to their feet. Seven angry warriors staring at the boy who dared to challenge them.  
"People like you have plagued my life. You've killed my family, ruined lives, and you think you're so big and bad. Well now I'll avenge my uncle and you will all die."  
"And people like you have perished at our hands. No one challenges the Nobai Gang. And if you think we're going to let you go because you're a kid, well think again. We're gonna teach you a lesson, you little punk."   
"No one challenges the Nobai Gang huh? Well I do!" Yamcha replied his eyes flaring with anger.  
"How dare you talk to us like that. You're dead kid!"  
"Wolf's fang fist!" Yamcha yelled as he struck the closest one in the head, knocking him into the moist grass.  
The six remaining Nobai stared in bewilderment as their leader lay on the ground unconscious.  
"How are you so strong?" One of the Nobai yelled in anger.  
"Several reasons, and there they are now!"  
Out from the nearby bushes sprang twenty ferocious wolves. The frightened Nobai turned to flee but were surrounded from every side. They crept forward with low, menacing growls, their eyes focused on the six quivering men. The alpha led from the west, his yellow eyes directly on his target.  
"This is for my uncle!"  
The wolves lunged forward in the starry night, their howls overwhelmed by the painful howls of the Nobai Gang. Yamcha looked on with a hidden pity, but it was still satisfying to see the end of such a ruthless group of people. The wolves completed their mission, exacting revenge on those who had killed their friend. Together they and Yamcha traveled back toward the desert, he decided it would be his new home now, he would claim it as his territory. What happened besides that, he didn't know and didn't care, he would live in the Diablo Desert. Yamcha's weary legs carried him through the giant sea of sand. He turned away from the wolves and wandered through the desert. He looked ahead at the endless butter colored sands, and in the distance he could see a speck. He trekked on, seeing what the object was. Some kind of creature or animal lay in the sand, it's tiny body motionless. Yamcha grabbed it and picked it up, dusting the sand off of its gray fur. The cat managed to open its eyes and look at Yamcha.  
"Thank You." It squeaked as it passed out again.  
  
  
If you didn't know who the cat was, then maybe you're reading the wrong story.  



End file.
